The Desperate
by Zaryenna
Summary: A look into the desperate. A look they wish you do not see. - Attempts at true drabbles. Possible spoilers from both books. Most recent drabble is Johanna's.
1. Berries

**Berries  
**_~Zary~_

_Completed: November 15, 2009_

I knew going in that I would never make it out. I was an outcast, a scrawny orphan who'd somehow managed to survive a few years. It was fate, I suppose, to be the one chosen—the one no one wanted. I spared them all.

Still my loss would mean little.

The silly thing is that my ability was perfect for the games. I could thieve without detection, could hide without being seen. My own cleverness impressed myself sometimes.

But in the end, I only outsmarted myself. It's probable they knew nothing of the berries' poison—_because_ they didn't know, I died. I outsmarted them, and, in doing so, fooled myself.

And I died.

The one no one wanted and the one who had spilled so little blood ate the berries.

And the berries turned to blood.

_(Note: Tried my hand at a drabble this time._

_**Definition of a drabble** on wikipedia: an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length, although the term is often incorrectly used to indicate a short story of fewer than 1000 words. The purpose of the drabble is brevity and to test the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space. _

_I failed. One, I did not invoke strong emotion or ideas in that confined space. Two, try as I may, I could not get it at a hundred words. Whoops. Well 135 is pretty good, right?)_


	2. Beauty

**Beauty  
_~Zary~_**

_Completed: Saturday, April 24, 2010_

It's like a drug to me.

I know the others. There were the two from District 6. The ones so lost beyond repair, the ones who relied on morphling. There is, or was, the drunkards, Chaff, Haymitch . . . There's the apathetic kind--Johanna Mason.

And there's Annie, sweet, little Annie—and all the others like her—the ones caught in a world so different and so vague. Annie is lost in that world, and no one can reach her. Not even me. I love her, and she loved me before, but that's all an empty dream now, and no amount of pleading on my part can ever return it.

They all turned to drugs, and small escapes, those little, obvious things that almost every victor does. I'm no different—only less obvious. No one knows.

It's like a drug to me. All of them.

Though none of them, in any way, compare to little Annie, and little what we had.

_(Note: I can only hope I did a little better this second attempt at a drabble. Finnick, unlike Foxface, does seem to invoke strong emotions in me, although I really do think Foxface is cool. So smart. So clever. Oh, anyway. 159 words is even more than what I had last time, lol.)_


	3. Heaven

**Heaven  
_~Zary~_**

I love the smell of flowers.

Always have, and always will. The fragrance that accompanies the wave of air. The way I feel at home.

The girl on fire surrounded me in flowers when I died. And I heard her voice, overcome by tears, but beautiful. If I could still have moved, I think I might have wept. The smell of the flowers all around me, her song—and as I die, I approach the meadow mentioned in the song, and I am happy.

Thanks to her.

I love the smell of flowers. I'll miss her voice when I am gone.

_(Note: This is for Rue, and there's not much to say on this one... I guess I'll only say—I thought this up and memorized the whole thing while I was going to the bathroom so I could write it down. Lol... Too much information, sorry. :P And, GUESS WHAT? 100 words exactly—yes, exactly. So hah! I just owned Wikipedia! Lol, just kidding around. Thank you, everyone, for your reviews. They truly mean a lot to me.)_


	4. Annie

**Annie  
_~Zary~_**

It's like the lashing of a whip upon my back.

Eventually it grew all numb and cold, from the continuous pain, but every time a new lash came, it seared in that one place, blood boiling under the skin. Pain. It was for that one second—that life became unbearable.

And the beating of that whip, that one moment, was whenever her name was mentioned. It would drive new tears to my eyes, and create new pain. I would think I was fine. I would think nothing could hurt me. But all it took was a name, a scream, the Capitol's betrayal, and the pain returns again.

_(Note: Hmm, the title might confuse you into thinking this is Annie's POV, but it's really Finnick's. Sorry if it did happen to confuse you. I didn't really like this one, by the way. 107 words. ^^)_


	5. Fear

**Fear**

_~Zary~_

It's not that I don't want to care, it's that I am afraid.

Wouldn't it be nice? Work my way into Finnick's heart, even if only for a day? Stop snapping at Katniss altogether? Protect Peeta for some other sake than attacking the Capitol? Maybe I could hold onto a keepsake of my parents', or fall in love, or even show everyone that—on the inside—I truly do care.

But what good would it do—what _good_, when they'll be stolen from me in the end anyway, just as I will surely be stolen from them. Snide remarks against the Capitol, removing the tracker from Katniss's arm, running _away_ from the only chance of escape. All the work I've put into this apathy, even when it's all just another lie—it can't be for nothing.

I'm not afraid of pain. I'm afraid of caring.

_(Note: I actually like Johanna. She reminds me of this one character I created when I was eleven—a side-character—that even to this day, I fall in love with. Not that I even know whether she actually does care, deep in her heart, but I know she acts the exact same way my character does, and I'm pretty sure I've got a good grasp on the workings of the mind—not really; I just like to pretend I could major in psychology. So yep. Johanna and my character easily remind me Rosalie from Twilight, as well, although Rosalie certainly does _not _care._

_141 words. I know you guys don't care, so how am I doing with things other than the word count with this drabble? :D I really enjoyed writing it, but I am biased so I would like to know how it turned out.)_


End file.
